


Romance

by Ophelia Coelridge (daemonluna)



Category: This is Wonderland
Genre: F/F, Humor, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-14
Updated: 2004-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daemonluna/pseuds/Ophelia%20Coelridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy knows what Alice loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance

Nancy knows what Alice loves.

She loves eating by candlelight, even when it's reheated pasta illuminated by three mismatched votives and an overwhelmingly citrusy citronella candle from last summer. She's embarrassed to admit it because she thinks it's too girly, but she loves pale pink roses. She loves chilled white wine, and she gets ridiculously sappy about romantic gestures.

Nancy has the wine and the fresh flowers, even though she had to brave the slush and the sleet and go to three different florists to find anyone that had pale pink roses left on Valentine's Day. She has the elegant tapered candles, and the good place settings. They were in a cardboard box at the back of the coat closet, labelled "dishes-fragile!!!" in magic marker. She didn't even realize Alice had any dishes that weren't plastic.

It's the dinner that's giving her problems. She wants it to be perfect.

Alice had been banished to the bedroom an hour ago. "Because it makes nervous when people watch me cook," Nancy had told her.

There is a crash, a loud thud, and a string of profanity.

"Is everything okay in there?" Alice calls through the closed door. She supposes it could have been worse. If she had a bachelor apartment, she would doubtlessly be locked in the bathroom right now, perched uncomfortably on the edge of the tub or the closed toilet seat. Nancy's determined to turn this dinner into a big surprise. It should surprise no-one, Alice reflects, that Nancy is a bit of a drama queen.

"Everything's fine! Get... in there... damn you!"

Alice is starting to worry. When Nancy starts to talk to inanimate objects it's never a good sign.

She's been in the bedroom for over an hour. She's been trying to read, but the bestseller she picked up at the library is full of unlikable people doing inane things. The bookcase is in the living room, so her alternatives are the crumpled twenty-year old newspaper from the box of her grandmother's china that Nancy unearthed, or Nancy's pocket criminal code.

There is a prolonged silence. She's not so much worried for Nancy's sake, Alice reflects, as for the continued structural integrity of her kitchen.

It is followed by an almighty crash, the sounds of breaking dishes, and a shriek of incoherent rage.

Alice decides, to hell with it. She flings open the door and rushes into the kitchen.

Nancy is backed into the corner, waving a broom. There are shards of china near the stove, an overturned pot in the middle of the floor, and scuttling away from Nancy, two very frantic lobsters.

"They're getting away! Quick, kill it, kill it dead!"

Alice attempts rescue, grabs an oven mitt, and lunges for the lobsters. Unfortunately, a puddle gets in the way, her feet fly out from under her, and she ends up in an undignified heap in the middle of the floor.

She looks up from the floor at Nancy, flailing at the lobsters with the broomstick, and tries very, very hard not to laugh. Instead she says, "Let me help you."

In short order, the lobsters are corralled and returned to the kitchen sink full of cold water. The shards of broken china are swept up, and the floor is mopped.

"This is awful!" Nancy glares at the lobsters. "You! This is all your fault!"

"Nancy," Alice says, as apologetically as she knows how, "I'm allergic to shellfish."

"So what you're trying to say is... I spent all afternoon shopping, broke your grandmother's dishes, tried to make a dinner that would have killed you, and now we have two giant sea bugs living in the sink?"

"... yes?" Alice offers.

Nancy looks ready to throw something.

"Look. We'll take the lobsters back to the store tomorrow. The dishes... well, you broke the gravy boat. I don't think I've ever made gravy. We'll make something else for dinner, and as for the shopping all afternoon... I'm sure I can make it up to you." Alice can feel her face turning as red as the lobsters would have as she unbuttons the top button of her blouse.

Sex so far has been a matter of hot, needy kisses leading to their inevitable conclusion, or schoolgirl groping under the blankets in front of the TV. It's been very good, but never so... deliberate.

From the way Nancy's breath just hitched, and the heat rising in her face, the direct approach isn't such a bad idea after all.

Dinner is a candlelit affair, served off the good china. Dinner is macaroni and cheese accompanied by Caesar salad and fresh-baked whole-grain buns from the bakery on the corner. Dinner is very, very good.

And after dinner, Alice moves the candles from the table into the bedroom, stops to pitch Nancy's trusty criminal code out from under the sheets, and proceeds to demonstrate just how very appreciative she is.

Alice loves romantic gestures and candlelit dinners.

Alice also loves grilled cheese sandwiches with ketchup. She loves curling up with a mug of hot chocolate, especially with marshmallows in it, and watching the snow drift past the window. She loves Audrey Hepburn movies, flannel pyjamas, and down comforters.

She loves the fierce little furrow that creases Nancy's forehead when she's trying to make the situation turn out her way by willpower alone.

She loves the look of rapt concentration Nancy gets when they kiss.

She loves the warm, sated weight of Nancy curled around her.

Alice knows what she loves. Alice loves Nancy.


End file.
